The Israel Koschitzky
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PARASHAT TOLEDOT
Rav David Silverberg
Towards the beginning of Parashat Toledot (25:21) we read of Yitzchak's prayers for a child. In reference to these prayers the Torah employs the unusual term va-yetar, rather than the more familiar words for prayer (such as va-yitpalel). The Gemara (Yevamot 64a) asserts that the etymological origin of the term va-yetar as a reference to prayer is the word eter, or shovel. "Just as a shovel moves the grain from one place to another," the Gemara explains, "so do the prayers of the righteous turn around God's attributes from the attribute of anger to the attribute of compassion." Prayer is referred to with the verb a.t.r. because it has the "shoveling" effect of moving away divine anger and bringing compassion in its place.
The Torah commentators, however, suggest different approaches to explain
the etymology of this word. Rashi
cites a number of proofs to the effect that the root a.t.r. means
"abundance." (Interestingly enough,
he does not mention that the word atir in Aramaic means "wealth.") Sefer Yechezkel (8:11) speaks of an "atar anan ha-ketoret" a thick cloud of smoke rising from
incense. The word atar in this phrase signifies the abundance of
smoke that the incense produced.
Similarly, a verse in Sefer Mishlei (27:6) declares, "ve-natarot neshikot sonei" "an enemy's kisses are profuse." Here, too, the root a.t.r. denotes excess.
Rav Shimshon Refael Hirsch, in his commentary, claims that the specific
connotation of a.t.r. is something done forcibly, with
vehemence. He associates this term
with the verb ch.t.r. which we find in reference to an intrusion
into somebody's home ("machteret" Shemot 22:1) and in describing the
forcible steering of a ship against tempestuous winds (Yona 1:13). In the context of the smoke of incense,
Rav Hirsch explains, atar describes the pillar of smoke that rises
directly upwards with a kind of force and vehemence. With regard to prayer, then, the term
va-yetar refers to a desperate plea that penetrates
the heavens through the powerful emotion and spirit with which it is
recited.
Shadal suggests an entirely different approach, claiming that the word atar may itself simply mean "smoke," as one might infer from the aforementioned verse in Yechezkel. As another possible basis for this theory Shadal points to the Targum Yerushalmi on the description of the smoke rising from Mount Sinai (Shemot 19:8), which employs the term atar (though the Targum Yerushalmi spells the word with a tet, rather than a tav). Prayer is described as "smoke," Shadal explains, because it rises to the heavens, and thus for this reason the word a.t.r. has come to refer to prayer.
This symbolic association between smoke and prayer invites further exploration into possible points of resemblance between the two. For example, it is perhaps significant that as the smoke rises, it eventually dissipates and disappears, just as the effectiveness of prayer is not always readily visible. Furthermore, the quantity of smoke generally corresponds to the size of the fire, perhaps symbolizing the fact that the amount of emotional "fire" that one invests into his prayers will determine the extent of its efficacy. Finally, just as smoke usually rises slowly, so do prayers often yield results in the near or distant future, as we cannot always expect to receive an immediate favorable response to our petitions to God.
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The Torah towards the beginning of Parashat Toledot (25:27) describes Esav as an ish sadeh "a man of the field." Rashi explains, "As it implies a person who is idle and hunts beasts and fowl with his bow."
Instinctively, we would likely associate the term ish sadeh with farming, and perhaps interpret this verse to mean that Esav worked in agriculture. In this instance, however, as Rashi claims, the straightforward implication of this term is one of hunting. For one thing, before being described as an ish sadeh Esav is said to be an ish yodei'a tzayid, which likely refers to hunting (though Rashi himself explains this term differently). Moreover, later in the parasha, Yitzchak instructs Esav, " go out into the field and hunt game for me" (27:3); this perhaps establishes that the "field" in Esav's experience is a place of hunting, rather than farming. According to Rashi, the description of ish sadeh indicates that Esav spent his time hunting, and not merely for the purpose of finding food, but also for sport and recreation "a person who is idle and hunts beasts and fowl."
A "field" can be utilized in one of two ways. On the one hand, a person can enter a field with the aim of cultivating it and actualizing its potential, bringing forth produce with which to sustain himself and mankind. Others, however, see a "field" as a place for self-indulgence and enjoyment, a place for idle recreation rather than productive work and creativity. The use of the term ish sadeh as understood by Rashi perhaps alludes to the stark contrast between the instinctive connotation of the term farming and its meaning in this context recreational hunting. Whereas a field should be looked upon and treated as a source of productivity, Esav used it as a place of idle recreation.
In this sense, the term ish sadeh reflects the two ways with which a person can approach life generally: as an opportunity to build, develop, influence and contribute, or as an opportunity for indulgence and amusement. Our job is to help build the world, rather than simply use the world; to cultivate and produce, rather than simply enjoy and indulge.
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Towards the beginning of Parashat Toledot the Torah tells the famous story of Yaakov's purchase of the birthright from his older brother, Esav. We read that Esav returned famished and weary from the field and found his brother preparing a stew. Yaakov agreed to share his food with Esav on the condition that he transfers to him the privileges and/or the responsibilities of the birthright.
The Midrash Ha-gadol (cited in Torah Sheleima, 199) tells that the exchange between Yaakov and Esav during this incident was in truth far lengthier and more elaborate than the three verses in which it is recorded:
When Esav entered he discovered Yaakov standing and cooking with his eyes tearing from the smoke. He [Esav] said, "Why do go through all this trouble? Open your eyes and see how all people on earth eat whatever they find fish, insects, crawling creatures, swine and the like, but you trouble yourself until you prepare a dish of lentils!" Yaakov said to him, "But if we act this way, what will we do for that day regarding which it is said, 'Seek justice, seek humility; perhaps you will then be protected on the day of the Lord's wrath' (Tzefanya 2:3) the day when the reward for the righteous is dispensed " He said to him, "Is there a world to come, or perhaps there is resurrection of the dead ?" Yaakov said to him, "If there is no world to come and no resurrection of the dead, why do you need the birthright? Sell your birthright to me on this day!"
This account sheds light on the fundamentally different attitudes and personalities of Yaakov and Esav. Yaakov was prepared to invest time and effort to prepare a proper dinner, while Esav preferred to eat only what he found readymade; Yaakov recognized the importance of patient, long-term investment, while Esav sought instant gratification. Naturally, these different characters affected their outlook with respect to the afterlife, as well. Esav, the man of "the here and now," who could not look beyond the present and very immediate future, refused to acknowledge eventual reward and punishment in the next world, or resurrection in the distant future. He could not bring himself to accept a system whereby his efforts and sacrifices will yield dividends only many years or centuries later. The man who ridiculed his brother for spending time cooking a stew was certainly not prepared to spend time accruing credit for some unknown time in the very distant future.
This portrayal of Esav should perhaps lead us to revisit the term ish sadeh "man of the field" with which, as we saw yesterday, the Torah described Esav just prior to this narrative. As we discussed, while the intuitive understanding of this term relates to agriculture, in the context of Esav it refers to hunting. Hunting and farming signify two precise opposite means of obtaining food. The farmer plows and sows the field many months before the food is produced, while the hunter enters the field to find his food readymade. Esav's affinity for hunting is thus very consistent with the Midrash Ha-gadol's portrayal of an impatient man who demands the immediate fulfillment of his wishes, and is unwilling to expend efforts that will yield results only in the distant future.
That Esav and Yaakov are portrayed in this light indicates that the patience and long-term vision of Yaakov is an indispensable quality in the view of the Torah and Chazal. Religious life demands the willingness to invest for the distant future, to make sacrifices and exert effort even if the benefits will be manifest only in the next world. While Esav obtains his food by hunting, we are to follow the example of the farmer, and be prepared to toil and exert ourselves in this world with the faith that we will reap the "produce" in the world to come.
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The Torah in Parashat Toledot tells of the birth of Yaakov and Esav. Esav is described as being born "reddish, covered entirely as with a furry cloak" (admoni kulo ke-aderet sei'ar 25:25). Unlike most infants, who emerge from the womb smooth-skinned, Esav was born with a covering of hair as if he were a physically mature adult.
The significance of this peculiar feature may perhaps be deduced from an intriguing parallel between this verse and the only other instance in Tanakh where the term aderet sei'ar ("furry cloak") is used. The prophet Zekharya (13:4) foresees the eventual downfall of idolatry and false prophets, and declares, "It shall be on that day, every [false] prophet shall be humiliated by his [alleged] vision when he prophesies, and they shall not don a furry cloak [aderet sei'ar] in order to speak falsehood." Several commentaries explain that aderet sei'ar refers to a formal mantle worn by noblemen, and the false prophets would appear before the people dressed in this formal attire in order to give a misleading appearance of authenticity and distinction. It should be noted that the prophet Eliyahu is described as wearing an aderet (Melakhim I 19:3,19, Melakhim II 2:13-14), perhaps indicating that this garment was commonly worn by prophets. The false prophets of Zekharya's time wore an aderet sei'ar as part of their fictitious display of authority and stature through which they hoped to garner support and trust on the part of the unsuspecting masses. Zekharya foresees the time when the charade will be exposed and the false prophets will no longer be able to wear the aderet sei'ar, to present themselves as honorable men and spiritual guides. They will be widely recognized as frauds, and nobody will be led astray by their prophetic claims.
In light of Zekharya's prophecy, the Torah's description of Esav's appearance at birth perhaps becomes a particularly befitting portent of his character as an adult. As Rashi famously comments (25:28), Esav earned Yitzchak's love through deception, succeeding in presenting himself as pious and God-fearing while committing heinous crimes of all kinds outside the home. Throughout his years in his parents' home, Esav wore an aderet sei'ar; he clothed himself in a false display of righteousness and nobility with which he concealed his criminal nature.
If Esav's aderet sei'ar serves as a symbol of his duplicitous charade of piety, then his brother's smooth skin ("ve-anokhi ish chalak" 27:11) reflects the precise opposite quality presenting oneself honestly. Yaakov, who is often associated with the virtue of emet (despite the occasions in his life in which he was forced to employ deceit), was born smooth-skinned because he did not wear an "outer layer" to conceal his true nature; the image he presented was an accurate reflection of who he was. As a man of genuine piety, he did not have to resort to wearing an aderet sei'ar, an artificial symbol of nobility and distinction; he presented himself with honest, natural innocence, and portrayed an image that accurately reflected his noble character.
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We read in Parashat Toledot of Yitzchak's intention to confer a special blessing upon Esav before his death, and how Yaakov seized that blessing by disguising himself as Esav. The loss of his father's blessing caused Esav great distress, to the point where "he cried an exceedingly great and bitter cry" ("va-yitz'ak tze'aka gedola u-mara ad me'od" 27:34). The Midrash (Tanchuma, Toledot 24; Yalkut Shimoni, Toledot 115) comments that Esav "shed three tears" in response to his brother's ruse, "one from his left [eye], one from his right [eye], and one that was suppressed inside his eyes, and it is that [tear] that has fed them [Yaakov's descendants] bread of tears and made them drink great measures of tears." The third tear which remained suppressed in Esav's eye is what led to the merciless persecutions against Yaakov's descendants at the hands of Esav's descendants. (The poetic final clause of this passage "fed them bread of tears and made them drink great measures of tears" is taken from Tehillim 80:6.)
Rav Shlomo Breuer, in his Chokhma U-musar, suggests a creative
approach to identify the three "tears" that Esav shed in this incident. The first two, Rav Breuer explains,
corresponds to the two instances in which he was "tricked" by Yaakov, as Esav
exclaims, "
he tricked me twice: he took my birthright, and now he took my
blessing" (27:36). Esav "shed a
tear," so-to-speak, for the birthright that he had relinquished to Yaakov many
years prior to this incident, as recorded earlier in the parasha, and he cried also for having now lost his
father's blessing. The third tear,
Rav Breuer suggests, was the result of Esav's awareness that it was he, and not
his brother, who was the deceptive one.
He lived his entire life deceiving his father, disguising behind a mask
of meticulous halakhic observance and saintliness. Esav understood full well that he could
hardly resent his brother for seizing the birthright and blessing that he
Yaakov rightfully deserved through his character and devotion to God. The two instances of deception that Esav
suffered at the hands of Yaakov could hardly compare with the life of deception
that Esav lived. The "third tear,"
then, the one that Esav could not bring himself to shed, resulted from the agony
of conscience, his realization deep down that Yaakov was justified and he was at
fault. This tear remained
suppressed within Esav's consciousness, and drove him to bitter frustration and
resentment towards Yaakov which was naturally passed down to his
descendants.
One lesson, perhaps, of this understanding of the Midrash is the
importance of "shedding the third tear," of honestly recognizing and coming to
terms with one's shortcomings and faults.
Rather than suppress this recognition in the inner recesses of one's
conscience, it is far more beneficial to acknowledge one's mistakes and failures
and commit himself to improve.
Suppressed guilt leads to irrational resentment and animosity, as seen in
the case of Esav; one should therefore allow himself to shed the last tear, to
confront his failings in an honest, self-effacing manner, and begin working
towards self-improvement.
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Parashat Toledot tells of the troubles Yitzchak confronted while living
in the region of the Pelishtim.
Yitzchak had settled in this area during a year of drought, in compliance
with God's command to reside among the Pelishtim in the
Upon Yitzchak's settlement in Be'er Sheva, he received an unexpected
visit from his former adversary, Avimelekh, and his general Pikhol. Yitzchak asked the Philistine leader,
"Why have you come to me you hated me and sent me away from you!"
(26:27).
Avimelekh and Pikhol's response seems difficult to understand: "We have
seen that the Lord was with you, and so we said that there should be an oath
between us between us and you and we should make a treaty with you"
(26:28). In other words, Avimelekh
initiated reconciliation with Yitzchak and sought to recommit himself to the
treaty he had made with Avraham (21:32) because of the visible divine providence
that accompanied Yitzchak. The
obvious question arises, why did Avimelekh take note of God's assistance to
Yitzchak only now? Yitzchak had
managed to produce an enormous crop in Gerar during severe drought conditions
(26:12), and in response the Gerarites despised and expelled him. What had occurred in the interim that
changed Avimelekh's attitude towards him?
Rav Yosef Shaul Nathanson, in his Divrei Shaul, suggests that Avimelekh was impressed by
Yitzchak's ability to succeed in different locations and under different sets of
circumstances. Natural success, the
Divrei Shaul explains, is always dependent upon a
specific group of factors.
Yitzchak, however, enjoyed success even after leaving Gerar. He prospered both in the more urban
environment of Gerar, and in the sparsely-inhabited countryside. His success, Avimelekh realized, was not
dependent on time or place, and he thus concluded that "the Lord was with you,"
that Yitzchak found water and produced crops through direct divine assistance,
and not by chance or through some particular skill.
A similar approach seems to emerge from Rav Shimshon Refael Hirsch's
translation of this verse. In their
comments to Yitzchak, Avimelekh and Pikhol employ the poetic form of "ra'o ra'inu," which is commonly understood as an
expression of emphasis "we have assuredly seen." Rav Hirsch, however, translates this
phrase as, "we have repeatedly seen."
What impressed Avimelekh was not Yitzchak's success, but his repeated
success, his ability to prosper under differing conditions and
circumstances.
We might add that Yitzchak not only prospered in different locations, but
also enjoyed much different kinds of success. In Gerar, his success was immediate:
"Yitzchak sowed in that land and in that same year produced one hundred
measures; the Lord blessed him" (26:12).
Upon leaving Gerar, however, Yitzchak struggled before enjoying success,
digging three wells before finally being able to assert unchallenged ownership
over a reliable water source. This
experience perhaps demonstrated to Avimelekh that Yitzchak was capable of
withstanding and ultimately overcoming an extended period of adversity,
persevering during difficult times until he eventually emerges triumphant. Yitzchak's confident perseverance
perhaps reflected that "the Lord was with you," that he could place his trust in
God's assistance even after repeated failures, when the future seemed
hopeless. This quality of Yitzchak
impressed Avimelekh to the point where he decided to initiate reconciliation,
and seek a peaceful agreement with the man who was so obviously blessed with
God's unique protection and providence.
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A cursory review of Parashat Toledot reveals that it consists of three
main narratives:
1) The birth and childhood of Yaakov and
Esav, until Esav's "sale" of the birthright to Yaakov
(25:19-34);
2) Yitzchak's experiences with the Pelishtim, among whom he lived when he sought a new
residence in the wake of the drought (26:1-33);
3) Yaakov's disguising himself as Esav in
order to receive Yitzchak's blessing that was intended for Esav, and Esav's
consequent rage that forced Yaakov to flee (27:1-28:9).
(There is also the pair of verses that tell
of Esav's marriage to two Chitite women 26:34-5.)
Shadal, in his commentary, cites a theory claiming that these narratives
appear in the Torah out of chronological sequence, as the second narrative in
fact occurred prior to the first.
Meaning, Yitzchak's settlement among the Pelishtim and his ensuing confrontations with the
native population took place before the birth of Yaakov and Esav. The basis for such a claim is Yitzchak
and Rivka's nearly successful attempt to disguise as brother and sister upon
arriving in the Philistine city of
Of course, proposing this theory requires as well an explanation for why
the Torah presented the events out of chronological sequence. Why did it tell the stories of Yaakov
and Esav's birth and the sale of the birthright before narrating the story of
Yitzchak's experiences with the Pelishtim?
Unfortunately, Shadal does not address this question in his
commentary.
Rav Yitzchak Etshalom develops this theory in a very thorough article
(available at www.torah.org/advanced/mikra/5757/br/Toldot61.pdf), without citing Shadal, and suggests a
possible reason for the Torah's sequence of presentation. The final section of the previous
parasha, Parashat Chayei-Sara (25:12-18), lists the
"toledot Yishmael," the twelve sons of Yishmael, emphasizing
their emergence as large, prominent tribes. Now Sefer Bereishit, to a large extent,
is structured according to the process of "selection and rejection" the
"selection" of a certain person or group and the "rejection" of others (e.g.
Noach and his generation, Avraham and his generation, Avraham and